


A Twenty-Four Pack and a Knuckle Sandwich

by Whoareyou0000



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bad Parent Frank Gallagher, Canon- but not entirely, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Established Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Frank Gallagher Being an Asshole, Hurt Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich in Love, M/M, Mentioned Ian Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich Being Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, My first gallavich, POV Mickey Milkovich, Protective Mickey Milkovich, Shameless, drunk frank gallagher, season one Mickey and Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoareyou0000/pseuds/Whoareyou0000
Summary: Mickey identified his prey and followed the piece of shit for three days, memorizing his routine, before deciding when and where to make the jump.Because no one fucks with Firecrotch. No one other than Mickey Milkovich, that is.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 5
Kudos: 201





	A Twenty-Four Pack and a Knuckle Sandwich

The L rushed by, its red lights like goddamned devil horns leading it home to the south side. It created sparks on the track that flashed in the darkness and lit the contemplative face of one pissed off Milkovich. 

Mickey leaned casually against the vibrating metal beam, more rust than chipped yellow, and absorbed its violent aftershocks like a brick fucking wall. He swallowed, the beer’s bitter taste lingering under his tongue, burped, and then cracked open number two in his case of twenty-four. The buzz helped him focus on the mouth of the alley, where the shithead child abuser would be toddling from any minute, and calmed the fiery rage ignited by the fist-shaped bruises on pale, freckled skin. 

_”Where’d you get these, tough guy? You piss off Mike Tyson?”_

_Mickey carefully traced the outlines of the discolored blotches on the boy’s side before the army green shirt could hide the evidence. He’d spotted them mid-fuck and almost lost his wood at the thought of someone using his Gallagher as a punching bag. Almost, because the dick pounding his ass just right said otherwise._

_”Fucking Frank.”_

It was all the explanation he got before the redhead swung himself out of the bleachers and mumbled some shit about getting to class. That night, Mickey identified his prey and followed the piece of shit for three days, memorizing his routine, before deciding when and where to make the jump. 

Because no one fucks with Firecrotch. No one other than Mickey Milkovich, that is.

Mickey finished his High Life in an anger-fueled chug and crushed the can in his FUCK hand before tossing it behind. His target would be stumbling home soon. If he’d learned anything from Terry, it’s that patience was key. Don’t chase your kill, wait for him to come to you. Lure him, anticipate. Save your energy for the beat down. 

When Daddy Gallagher appeared in the distance, Mickey had a healthy amount of wrath, a knuckle sandwich, and enough of a twenty-four pack for his plan to succeed. He plucked another can from the cardboard, popped the tab, hawked a juicy one right into the opening, and sauntered ahead towards the weaving drunk, chewing his cheek along the way. 

“Yo, Frank.” 

The old man leaned heavily against a beam about twenty feet away and blinked upwards. The stench of piss and stale vomit wafted off him. Another bender come to a close. 

“Mickey Milkovich! Just the man I was looking for. Hey, can I borrow one of those?” 

He pointed a shaky finger at the opened can. Mickey thrust it forward with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. “Jesus Christ, take it, ya alchy. Not like ya need it.” 

Frank drank a mouthful, puffed out his cheeks, and swallowed. Mickey smirked into a snarl and scratched at his eyebrow while the other man flapped his tongue.

“You wouldn’t _believe_ the day I’ve had. My kids are ungrateful heathens. All I ask is to sleep in my own bed in _my_ house. Can I? No! They drag me right back out in the rain.” He poured more spit and beer between his cracked lips. Mickey dug his nails into his palm and leaned away. “I bet you’re not that way with your father. _They_ should learn from you.”

Then FUCK met FRANK under the flash of the next L train. It produced an audible crack as one fist left and another took its place on the opposite cheek. Blood sprayed the air between when knuckles impacted nose and, in the grand finale, a knee struck a crotch. Frank fell to the gravel a sputtering mess and Mickey’s boot clamped down on his fragile chest, putting just enough pressure on the sternum to threaten. 

The elder Gallagher spit, arms splayed and blood oozing between his teeth. “What the _hell_ was that for?” He raised up on shaky elbows, but the Glock pointed at his forehead forced him back down into the dirt. 

“I got a cap in here with your name on it, carved it myself.” He smirked. Blood poured from Frank’s nose. “I hear ya put your hands on your kids. That don’t sit well with me. Pedos and kid-bashers ain’t fucking welcome in this neighborhood and I’m the guy who enforces that shit.” 

“Now, hold on…” Frank raised his hands in surrender, his voice wet and hoarse. Mickey put weight on his foot and the man wheezed and clawed at his denim-clad ankle. Blood soaked into Frank's already stained t-shirt exclaiming: Pure Michigan. The beer emptied itself into a puddle of thick foam just out of his reach. 

“Did I ask for your opinion? This ain’t no court of law. You hit your kids, plain and simple. How we gonna fix that?” Frank didn’t answer, his breath coming in frantic gulps. Mickey cocked his head. “Oh, right.” 

He relieved the pressure slightly and Frank inhaled a whoosh of air before speaking in a choked whisper. “I…I…won’t do it again. You…you have my word.” 

Mickey scoffed and cocked the gun. “You think I’m stupid?” Frank flinched and covered his face with his hands. “Stay away from your fucking house until those kids say different. If I hear you’re creeping around, stealing their food, pawning the babies for drugs, and especially using them as punching bags, and believe me I _will_ find out, well then _little Frank_ here with make his new home in your skull. We clear?” 

Mickey clamped down with his foot briefly and Frank squirmed. Finally, the fucker removed his hands from his face and nodded. The Milkovich rolled his eyes and eased off just enough. “Crystal! Crystal fucking clear.” 

Mickey studied his prey for a breath, taking in the wide bloodshot eyes and the face that looked more like Manwich than man. Satisfied, he stuffed his gun into the back of his pants and stepped away long enough for Frank to crab walk back to the edge of the beam, lean to the side, and hold his head in his hands again. In one last fuck you, Mickey patted Frank’s pockets and took his last few bucks. 

“That’s for the goddamned beer.” Mickey mumbled. He stashed the money, turned his back, and walked. The satisfying sound of Frank choking on his own blood followed. “I’ll be watching, Frank. Makin’ my list just like fucking Santa Claus. So, you better be good.” 

Smirking at his own joke, Mickey weaved bruising knuckles through the cardboard handle and headed for the Kash and Grab. He had just enough time to catch the ginger at the end of his shift and convince him to take a walk to the bleachers.

Because Mickey was a fucking romantic and what said ‘I wanna fuck you exclusively’ more than most of a case and a few crumpled bills slipped into the pocket of the kid’s camo pants when he wasn’t lookin.’

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless or any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Warnings for graphic violence and language, because its Mickey Milkovich. 
> 
> Author's Note: Hello fellow Gallovich fans! This is my first attempt at Shameless fanfic. This scene is set sometime in season one before Frank finds out about Mickey and Ian. It's not necessarily canon compliant, as I feel like it would change Frank's actions throughout season one, but I think it could fit in the universe. Enjoy and please review!


End file.
